Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down: Accepting Tributes!
by Telehphone
Summary: The rebellion has ended. The Capitol have, yet again, won and life has gone back to normal. In this years Quarter Quell the Tributes will have to weed out friend from foe, human from mutation and Vamp from Regular before it's too late. *14 SPOTS OPEN!*
1. Tribute List

**Yeah, yeah. I know I already have one of these but whatever, I'll write another one anyways. I will update my first one first, and for every one chapter I write of this I'll write one for my first story. Let me give you a small bit of background: the Katniss/Peeta rebellion (as the Capitol people call it) has failed, and things have gotten back to what they used to be. The Capitol rebuilt and re-populated the destroyed District 12, because they had to get their coal somehow, and Hunger Games still commence as normal. it's the fifth quarter quell, and the Gamemakers have thrown in a brutal twist. Instead of my telling you about this, how about the head Gamemaker, Lucius, tells you?**

Lucius sat in his candy-apple red leather chair in his dimly lit library, a large leather book clasped in his paper white hands. He took another bite of chicken, his long, sharp fangs ripping the flesh from the bone easily. A white eyebrow rose and fell from the top of his forehead to it's normal place as Lucius read from the book. The heavy oak door, cleverly hidden by a bookshelf, creaked open and a small man with bright pink hair scuttled in, his beady black eyes panning the room nervously. Lucius turned around in his chair.

"Ah, Appius. Good morning, thank you for coming," Lucius purred softly. He brushed back his long white hair, and beckoned for Appius to come and sit in a small wooden stool to the left of his leather chair. "You're fully aware of why I called you here?" Although Appius nodded, Lucius continued as if nothing had happened. "Well, then, let's refresh your memory. You are the Capitols finest scientist, and I called you here to have you create some things for me for the upcoming Quarter Quell."

"Yeah. That would be very nice. I, erm, love the Hunger Games," Appius said awkwardly, tugging gently at the sweaty sleeves of his white lab coat.

"Terrific," Lucius said, taking a huge bite of the chicken, taking extra care to show the scientist his sharp teeth. "Then we shall commence."

"That sounds..." Appius searched for a word he thought Lucius might deem impressive. "Monumental?"

Lucius raised a white eyebrow, a look of confusion on his face, then he turned to the book clasped in his hands.

"During the second rebellion there was a mutation unleashed upon the Districts from the Capitol," the Gamemaker read. "The beastly mutation would look like a human, and act like a human, up to an extent. The thing that separated this from a human was the mutations incredible lust for blood, that could not be satisfied. These mutations were formally called Sanguisuges, but, by those in the know, often called Vamps. It was the creation of the Sanguisuges that made these mutations special. The Capitol would take average people from thier homes in the Districts to inject them with a parasite. The parasite caused an insatiable thirst for blood. They were then sent back on the Districts, where they were free to cause destruction as they pleased. At one point the amount of Vamps being produced was so great that there was considered two types of people in Panem the 'Vamps' and the 'Regulars' (normal humans) but due to the high price of the parasites, that came from special labs within the Capitol, there became only a few hundred of the Sanguisuges, yet they were responsible for the downfalls for some important rebels; for example, Finnick Odair." He shut the book and looked down at Appuis.

"Yeah, um, Vamps? Isn't that kinda, um..." Appius rubbed his hairline, clearing the thick line of perspiration. "Well, risky? Vamps are known for being unruly."

"No," Lucius said. "It's not." He grabbed a crimson pitcher from the tray with the chicken on it and poured cream into a teacup filled with dark tea.

"You want be to made Vamps, and then set them loose around the arena?" Appuis was both surprised and disgusted at his assignment.

"No. I want you to make the parasite. We'll inject it into some of the tributes,_ then_ we'll put them into the arena," Lucius said as he traced his finger across one of the flowers on his teacup.

"B-but... that's terrible! How could you do that to their families and friends, and we'd have to destroy them at the end, so it would be totally useless!" Appuis felt himself getting braver by the second. The Gamemaker, however was staring at his tea, his papery lips pursed. "And plus! There's a reason there were only a few of the Vamps! They're so expensive to create, and time consuming too! My whole lab would have to go to work immediately, and wouldn't be able to stop working until the Hunger Games! I'm sorry, Lucius, but this just won't work!" By the end of his speech Appius was standing from his chair, his eyes wide.

There was an awkward moment of silence between the two. Lucius stared at his tea, his white, pupil-less eyes as emotionless as ever. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the shatter of china. The cup in Lucius' hand lay broken in front Appuis, shards of china flew into the air, and scorching hot tea was showered over the scientist. Appuis leapt backwards but tripped, falling over his chair, and landing in a heap on the floor. Lucius was above him in mere seconds, he pulled the scientist up the from the ground, with surprising strength for a wiry man and held him in a head lock, that was only tightened as Appuis struggled for air.

"Listen, Appius," he hissed in a low, deadly voice. "I don't want you to forget how much power I have. With a flick of my wrist, I can destroy you, your lab, your family,_ your life_." Lucius tightened his grip. "I'm a gentle man, I'll let your little mishap slide this time, but never again. Do you hear me? Never again will you disobey my orders."

"Yes, sir," Appuis gasped out, his tanned hands clawing at Lucius sleeve. "It's possible. I'll have the parasites done and ready by the Games,"

"Good boy," Lucius said, he released his grasp and Appuis dropped to the floor, gasping for air. A few seconds passed, Appuis in a heap on the floor, recovering; Lucius poured himself another glass of tea. Appuis got up to leave.

"Oh, and Appius," Lucius called from his chair.

"Yes?" Appius whispered nervously.

"Please have them ready by the Games," Lucius sipped ideally on his tea, "I'd like to make this Quarter Quell very fun for the Tributes."

**If you're wondering I'm planning on making this story quite dark, dismal, and, on a whole, rather depressing. Just saying. There'll be other twists thrown it, if you can guess one from the title, you win a free (fake, invisible, etc.) cookie. But a cookie! The list of the Districts and what they specialize in are bellow. I've added some side notes onto District 12. I'd really rather you guys sent them in by PM. Just because it's more secret and will be more of a surprise to see the characters, but if you don't have an account, a review is fine. Oh, and one other thing! Please, no self-inserts! Trust me, you'll try to make yourself look perfect, because who wants to see themselves as flawed? Plus (at least for me), it'd be pretty depressing to see myself die, even if it was fiction so... ahem... don't create self-inserts. **

**District 1**-_ Luxury items for the Capitol._

**District 2- **_Medicine._

**District 3- **_Factories (Technology and electronics)_

**District 4- **_Fishing_

**District 5-**_ Mathematics._

**District 6- **_Science_

**District 7- **_Lumber/ Paper_

**District 8- **_Clothing and Textiles_

**District 9- **_Oil_

**District 10- **_Livestock_

**District 11-**_ Agriculture_

**District 12- **_Coal (District 12 is going to have changed a lot from the Hunger Games and now it's a Career District)_

_Name:_

_Age:_

_Gender:_

_District:_

_Appearance (the most description the better!):_

_Personality (again, more description the better!):_

_Life story:_

_Friends and Family:_

_Strengths:_

_Weapon of Choice:_

_Weaknesses:_

_Reaping outfit (Pictures are nice, but not necessary):_

_Chosen for The Games or volunteered:_

_Token and who gave it to him/ her:_

_Interview Quote:_

_Interview Angle:_

_Alliance? And with what type of people?:_

_Romance? (If you see somebody who'd you'd like your character to be paired with PM me):_

_Strategy (for both the Training Room and Hunger Games):_

_Arena Ideas (optional):_

_Anything else I missed out that you want to add about your character:_

**I love designing fashion so I'll be taking care of the Chariots and Interview outfits. What else? Oh yeah, sponsorships!**

**Food (5-10 review points)**

**Water (10-15 review points)**

**Weapons (15-20 review points)**

**Anything lifesaving e.g Capitol medicine (30 review points)**

**If you'd like to sponsor a tribute please PM me, when you want to sponsor somebody. I'll have a list of sponsor points at the end of the chapter. When I get all my Tributes I'll update, and applications are always open until I post the chapter.**

**Tribute List (so far)**

**District 1:**

_**F:**Hazel Deraan (if she needs to get replaced she will)_

_**M: **__Scarlet Werean_

**District 2:**

_**F: **Confetti Shot_

_**M: **Flame Chryssler_

**District 3**

_**F: **Apple "Berry" Janus_

_**M: **George Mandon (my bloodbath)_

**District 4: **

_**F: **Emmalie Dunn_

_**M: **Julian Devereux_

**District 5:**

_**F: **Venus Blonsky_

_**M: **Vigilante Huntst_

**District 6:**

_**F: **Vasar Clermont_

_**M: ** Fallon_

**District 7:**

_**F: **Skye_

_**M:**_

**District 8:**

_**F: **Naomi Curtis_

_**M: **_

**District 9:**

_**F:** Roseabella "Rose" Robinson_

_**M: **Brandt Fuller_

**District 10:**

_**F: **Tinley Bryar_

_**M: **Jayson Hale_

**District 11: **

_**F: **Ever Blossom Drey_

_**M:**_

**District 12:**

_**F: **J_illiana Kigali

_**M:**_


	2. Short Author Note

**Hello again! Thanks everybody for the reviews, and the characters! I have an updated list on my last chapter, so go check it out. Applications are still open, due to the fact that my list is about halfway done. I know I said I won't update until I get all my applications, but I lied. So, please submit some more applications. Thank you!**


	3. District 1 Reapings

**I have an updated list of your characters on the first chapter, make sure to check it out! It's started. This is the first Reaping! I think I've decided that I'll do Reapings for D1, D2, and D3; train rides for D4, D5, and D6; chariots for D7, D8, and D9; training for D10, D11, and D12; then interviews for everyone... and then we're pretty much off to the games! Tell me what you think of this idea. Oh yeah, and also you get extra sponsor points if you guess who the escorts are based after. Don't guess for this one, because she's not based of anyone, but the rest will be. :)**

**Hazel Draan POV**

"Good shot, brother!" I yell to Raven as he lunges at me, his metal sword missing my chest by mere inches, and imbedding itself deep into the gym wall behind me. Raven curses loudly as he realizes his sword is lodged in the foam wall. I laugh as he tries to fend off my sword. He's good at fist fighting, better than me, actually, but with my sword he's no match for me. I imagine I'm in the Hunger Games, and Raven is a small District 6 girl. I lash out at him, hitting his knee and his forearm. He's able to dodge a hit to his forehead, and he laughs.

"Shape up sister, you'll stand no chance in the games," he taunts, shaking his blonde curls. I growl with anger and abandon my sword for now, using both of my hands to push him so hard that he falls to the ground. Once he's down, I grab my sword and point the tip towards his neck. The smirk that played with his lips only a few seconds ago was gone, and a scowl was on his face.

"Fine!" he says defiantly, pushing away the sword and standing up. "You'll do great in the Games, happy?"

"Very," I reply, smirking. It's almost funny to watch my brother be a sore loser.

"I'm going to get changed," he grumbles, dislodging his sword from the wall and dusting it off on his track pants. He turns to leave the gym, muttering about fair play.

"Brother?" I say. Raven turns, and I smirk. I lightly tap my cheek with two manicured fingers. My brother rolls his eyes, but walks over to me anyways, and gives me a kiss on the cheek, then dashes back up the staircase towards our kitchen. I put away my sword, and follow Raven up the stairs, and into our kitchen. I sit in one of the large mahogany chairs, and begin to eat a yogurt. I'm half-way through the cup when my mother enters the room. Her hair is messy, and she's wearing her bathrobe.

"Already up, Hazel?" she asks, as she sits down across from me.

"I got up hours ago," I say simply. I'm not a big fan of my mother, to put things plainly.

"Need any breakfast?"

"No." I get up from my chair, leaving my empty yogurt cup on the table, and turn to leave.

"Hazel!" I whirl around and raise one blonde eyebrow. My mother and I look at each other, neither of us blinking for a moment. She looks down. "Nothing," she mutters under her breath, passing a pale hand through her long blonde hair. I see tears well up in her deep brown eyes, but I just shrug and clamber up the stairs leading to my room. I need a lot of time to get ready, so I start right away with a long hot shower. I scrub myself top to bottom, rubbing away the sweat and grime from my earlier exercise, and leave the shower smelling like lavender. Next, I need to put on my dress. This is the difficult part. I had my dress custom made for me from a dressmaker in town. It's made out of small, layered pieces of solid gold.

"Mother!" I yell at the top of my lungs. In a surprisingly short amount of time, my mother's at the door.

"Need some help, honey?" asks my mother shyly, inching her way towards me.

"Yes, help me get into the dress," I say coldly, pointing at my dress. She brings the dress towards me, and helps me into it. I'm going to kill the dressmaker for making my dress two sizes too small. I finally manage to squeeze into the dress, and I turn to my mother.

"You can go now," I snap.

"You look great," my mother mutters as she leaves the room. I ignore her and walk over to my bathroom to apply makeup. I apply black lipstick until my lips are a glossy black color, and I daub on tons of dark eye make-up, making my hazel eyes pop. I gel and slick my hair back, and away from my face. To finish off the look, I dust my shoulders with gold dust. I examine myself in the mirror. Everything is perfect about me. My dress. My hair. My make-up. I turn slowly, looking at my dress from all angles. It looks beautiful. I put on strappy heels, and make my way back downstairs.

"Hi honey!" says my step-father cheerily. He's sitting on the couch, watching the television with a glazed look on his face.

"Hello, Wasp," I say. My relationship with my step-father is much better than my relationship with my mother. Wasp and I understand each other, and I train with him most every day.

"Heading to the Reapings already?" he asks me, not turning his eyes away from the television.

"Just waiting for Raven," I reply, sitting down gingerly as not to ruin my couture dress, "What's this years Quarter Quell again?"

"Muttations. He didn't specify what muttations, nothing you can't handle," my dad says without skipping a beat. We talk strategy and weapons for a few minutes before Raven walks down the stairs. I have to admit, he looks dashing in his suit, but nothing compared to my _couture_,_ one-of-a-kind_, _amazing_, _beautiful_, _insanely expensive_ dress. We link arms, and leave, giving Wasp an absentminded smile.

**Scarlet Werean POV**

"Scarlet! It's time to wake up for training!" cries a high female voice from above me. I give a groan, and cover my head with my midnight blue blankets again, trying to block out Mam's commands.

"I dun want to go no training this early in the morning," I mutter back, half of my mid still in dream land, where I belong.

"I _don't_ want to go _to_ training this early in the morning," Mam corrects smoothly as she removes the warm blankets from my sleepy body, and gives my arm a light slap. "Now, please, Scarlet, wake up, we must train. Don't you want to go to the games?" I'm turned away from her, but I can hear her footsteps as she leaves the room, her heels making a nice _taptap_ sound on the hardwood floor. It's no use trying to sleep in, I'll have to wake up anyways, so I open my eyes, and walk to the bathroom.

"Good God!" I mutter when I see my reflection. Wild hair, wide eyes, and a small pimple on my chin. Quickly, I rub concealer onto the pimple until it's disappeared. If Mam sees this pimple I don't know what'll happen. Mam always says that all I have going for me is my looks, and if I lose those, I have nothing going for me at all. She's trying to train me so I can go into The Games and be a victor like my father, but apparently my intelligence is painfully low, and I can't fight if my life depended on it, (which it very might will) so all I have going for me is my pretty face. Yay.

I comb out my hair, and quickly finger wave my bangs. I finish it off with a little gel to make my hair glossy, and call it a day. Not literally though, I still have to go to training. I dress in a tank top and track pants, and walk down the stairs to our 'gym', otherwise known as 'A-Room-With-A-Few-Mats-In-It-And-A-Weapon-So-We-Call-It-A-Gym'. Mam is waiting for me, angrily looking at my hair.

"Scarlet!" my mother exclaims. "It isn't smart to do your hair up before training, you'll just mess it up again!"

"Oh, 'm sorry, Mam," I respond. I thought my hair looked nice.

Mam gives a sigh. "_I'm _sorry, Mam," she corrects. "Please, Scarlet at least make _an effort_ to erase your accent!"

I sigh, and make my way over to a dummy in the corner. "Shall we start with hand-to-hand combat?" I ask Mam. She just nods, and watches me hit the dummy with all my might. The dummy is hard plastic and every hit I make hurts my hand. After I'm sure I've beaten the poor dummy to a pulp, I progress to the throwing knives.

"Work harder!" barks Mam. "Fix your aim! Kill!"

The thing is, I'm not a killing machine, and I've never wanted to be a killing machine either. All I've wanted to be is Scarlet Werean. I've hoped to go to the Capitol when I become older, show them my great fashion deigns and wow them over. I don't want any part in the Games, unless I'm one of the stylists!

"SCARLET!" Mam yells at the top of her lungs, rousing me from my daydreams.

"Mmm?"

"Stop dozing off!" She passes a hand through her blonde hair and scowls. "You're impossible? Know that?"

"Yeah," I nod. It's always best to agree with Mam on issues like this one. Mam stares at me in complete silence, passing another hand through her hair.

"Go fix your hair," is all she can say. I nod, my hair does need fixing! I walk back up to my room _again,_ and enter the bathroom _again_, to fix my hair _again_. I'm very temped by the sight of my comfortable bed, but I restrain myself, and enter the bathroom. Me and Mam, sorry, Mam and_ I_, look like we could be related. We have the same blonde hair, pale skin, and light blue eyes, but in reality we're not at all. I wish I knew my real mother. I wish she hadn't died and I was still with her today.

I redo my hair until it's picture perfect, glossy and shiny and all that. I really want to take a shower but there's no time, no time for breakfast either, damn. I'm hungry! Mam wants me to dress in a suit, but that's so expected. Instead, I wear a black military jacket with gold buttons up the left side, and black tailored pants with gold accents and black knee-high boots. I examine myself in the mirror. I look ah-mazing.

I'm supposed to meet Sunday, Hunter, and Jasmine outside of my house about right now, so I dash downstairs. My friends are all waiting for me outside my house, not daring to actually come in and face Mam's critical comments.

"You look awesome!" Jasmine says as she warmly embraces me. I look at her, she's dressed in just a simple blue dress but still manages to look drop dead gorgeous. Typical. Jasmine was born in a poorer part of the District, the same part I was born in, actually, but unlike me, she stayed in the poorer area, her family just making it by.

"You too, beautiful dress!" I say. Jasmine gives my arm a small slap.

"It's the same one I wear every year, Scarlet!"

I greet the rest of my friends, and we walk down the empty street, talking about the Quarter Quell, the Hunger Games, how I plan on volunteering, the latest gossip.

"Hey!" says Sunday, she's Hunters sister, and only 10. "I'll race you guys!"

Hunter groans, but Jasmine nods, "Sure Sunday! That'll be really fun!" Jasmine has a thick accent from her part of the District: "U" pronounced like an "O", "Y" pronounced like "Eh", long vowels, typically bad grammar. I used to have that accent, but I've all but erased it over the years.

"Do we have to?" Hunter groans.

"Yes," Sunday says forcefully, glaring at her brother. For a little kid, she can certainly give a great stare. I laugh, and Hunter gives a final groan.

"Alright," Sunday continues. "Your marks... get set... GO!" And we're off, racing across the barren road, hurtling around corners. I'm in the lead, Jasmine close behind me, when I skid around a corner and crash headlong into somebody. Jasmine crashes into me, Sunday crashes into her, and Hunter crashes into his sister, and we all fall to the ground in a puddle of limbs. I'm the first to separate myself from the pile and, laughing I stand up, fix my hair and dust my myself off. I turn around to face a blonde wearing a fancy dress and extravagant makeup who is most certainly not laughing.

"You ruined my_ couture_ dress," she hissed dangerously, pointing to a miniscule patch of dust on the side of a brilliantly gold dress. I open my mouth to speak but Jasmine cuts in.

"Oh! It's only a small patch of dust!"

"On my couture dress!" Couture Girl hisses again, her eyes narrowed. "Do you know how much this cost? No? Well, let me tell you. A lot!"

"I'm sorry, I'm Jasmine, it's nice to meet you," Jasmine says, giving Couture Girl a hand to shake. Couture Girl looks Jasmine up and down. A much too small dress, a thick accent, dirt on her hands and under her fingernails.

"I don't want your pity, Raccoon!" Couture Girl mutters. She turns on a heel and a handsome boy with blonde curls takes her arm and they strut off. Jasmine is looking straight ahead, one arm still reaching out. I understand too that Raccoon means somebody who comes from her part of the District, called so because of their tendency to steal from trash cans. It's considered very derogatory. I sling an arm around Jasmine, and she turns to me, her dark brown eyes narrowed.

"_Maul _her for me, Scarlet? _Maul_ her," Jasmine says, wiggling free of my arm and walking away towards the square. We walk in silence to the square and sit in our sections. I sit in the 17 section with Hunter, Sunday goes to the back, and Jasmine goes to the back of the 16 section, still fuming.

After a few minutes, The Reapings start. The history of Panem has to be the most boring speech in the history of Panem. I ignore the speech and only turn my attention back to the stage to my soon-to-be-escort climb the steps to the stage. She has lots of long hair in different neon colors, and a bright dress that is abusing my eyes. She fishes around in the girl's bowl, then takes out a piece of paper with a small flourish.

"Ginger Yamo." Before Ginger can take a step out, a bouncy brunette hops from the 16 row and says, "I vol-" but is suddenly cut off when a blonde with dark makeup and a gold dress digs her fingernails deep into the brunettes shoulder. The girl falls down to the ground, wincing in pain. Wow. Harsh. The blonde steps into the light.

"Couture Girl!" I yell, then clasp my hands over my mouth. Everybody looks at me as if I'm insane, then turn their attention back to Couture Girl, who is now climbing the steps to the stage. Couture Girl says her name, but I don't think I can hear. I'm looking down at the brunette, and the 5 blood red crescents on her shoulder. They stand out so much on her milky white skin looking like-

"SCARLET WEREAN!" the escort yells at the top of her lungs. Poor boy. She's mispronouncing his name, it's said _We_rean, not _Wier_ean. Oh yeah, that's my name...

"Hmmm?" I say. I stay still for a second as everybody in the District looks at me. Then it hits me, no need to volunteer. I'm going into the Hunger Games. "Oh." I walk to the stage and turn to my escort, "Actually my name is pronounced Scarlet Werean, not Wierean," I say to my escort. She grimaces, and ruffles my hair.

"Please shake hands," she commands, flipping a strand of blue hair out of her eyes. I fix my hair and put out a hand for Couture Girl to shake. She shakes my hand, putting so much force I'm afraid it'll break. She looks deep into my eyes. I try to look into her hazel ones, but they frighten me, so I just look at the space between her eyes. We are hustled away by the Peacekeepers shortly after, and as we leave the stage, she whispers into my ear, in a voice that is almost incomprehensible.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

**Hazel Deeran POV**

The Peacekeepers put me into a large room with a few velvet chairs, a mahogany table and sea foam green walls. I've just sat down in one of the velvet chairs when my first visitors cram it. It's every one of my so called 'friends' from school. Useless sheep, just being with me for a chance at getting some attention.

"Hazel, _ohmigawd_, you're in the Hunger Games!" chirps Destiny. I can see why she hangs out with me, her personality is about as flavorful as bland rice, and her looks match.

"Hazel! Come back, okay, because I'll be _so_ lonely with you gone, because you're, like, my best friend, and you're really cool... and stuff, so, yeah," a red-head I've never seen in my life says, trying to squeeze all her loving thoughts about me into one breathless sentence.

"Do I know you?" I ask her. She just looks down at her pink heels. "Get out."

More people hug me, kiss me, and wax poetic about how I'm their best friend, I'm thankful when the Peacekeeper finally tells them to leave. Raven comes in, followed by Wasp. Finally! Two people I want to see. I give Wasp a large huge and give Raven one too. My mother walks in afterwards. She's looking down at the carpet, her face bright red, and stained with tears. I don't say anything to her, even as she sits down and starts to sob.

"Your District partner seems nice," Wasp offers. I shake my head.

"I ran into him earlier today, literally. He was hanging out with a Raccoon, right, Raven?" Raven nods, and Wasp gives a heavy sigh. They shake their heads in unison. Raven opens his mouth to say something more.

"Okay! Time's up!" the Peacekeeper yells, grabbing me by my forearm.

"Hey!" Raven cries, sitting up to face the Peacemaker. "We just got here."

"Time's up," he repeats. He yanks me towards the door, and I jerk out of his grip,

"I'll walk beside you, thank you very much," I growl. The Peacemaker shrugs slightly, and I follow him out of the room. The last image I see of my family is Wasp and Raven waving and my mother sobbing into her hands. Then the doors close and all I see is flashing lights.

**Okay! I am still accepting Tributes, by the way. I need four, but you can take your time. I'm going away for two weeks starting on Wednesday, I'm going to get very little time to write, and won't have my computer with me but I can write on a notebook or something. I hope you enjoyed that chapter, and thank you for reading and please review!**

**~ Molly**


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